


Rain story

by Beautifullylive



Category: No Fandom
Genre: Character Death, Mentions of Cancer, Original Character(s), Rain, Sad, Sad Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-30
Updated: 2019-01-30
Packaged: 2019-10-19 04:33:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17594702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beautifullylive/pseuds/Beautifullylive
Summary: This is a story I wrote a few years ago and thought that I would share with y'all. It's a story of a girl struggling with not only cancer but a lot of other demons





	Rain story

“You could still go out there, enjoy the rain,” my mother said as she saw me staring out the window, the rain had once again rapt my attention. “You used to love playing in the rain, splashing in the puddles.”  
“I can't do that anymore, it... it's just not worth it”I meekly reply.  
I don't want to be but I'm crying now. My mom says “listen I know Jack is scary but-”  
My mom always seems to be whistling in the dark. I snap, I don't mean to but I can't help it. “Jack? Jack is someone we came up with when I was a scared little kid, but I'm not a little kid anymore, I have cancer mom, just say it.”  
The room falls silent and I say “and we both know he's killing me.” I say as I storm out of the room, so ashamed of the cursor tears burning down my cheeks, shy can't I just be normal.  
I sulk in my room, listening to the pounding of the rain as it hits our roof, washing today's worries into tomorrow. I know my mom was right, I shouldn't have snapped at her, but everything is so hard, and my mom just makes it worse sometimes by coming up with all these positive sayings. She always says that my life is affluent and I should feel privileged just to be alive. Sometimes it's hard not to snap at her when she tries to make all of my horrible situations seem like the rainbow after the storm, she always does this she did it with my cancer, and she did it after my dad die--. My dad was a firefighter, and he died shortly after we found my cancer. Sometimes when I'm upset I can't help but think he died to just get away from me, who would want to be around a family that is broken up by cancer? Who would want to around a family that used to have levity, character, but now can only see cancer, and cures, one that's... lifeless almost? My mom always said that everything happening had to be a blessing in disguise, but I can't believe her, how could any of this be a blessing? I bury my head in my pillow crying at the injustice in the world, why me, why do I have to be this way? Tears spill over my face and onto my pillow, causing my pillow to grow damp from my pain.  
“Caroline, dinners ready” I hear my mom call a few minutes later.  
Her voice is followed by the sweet scent of her home-baked bread. The rain has slowed and my tears begin to dry, but I can feel more waiting at the ready. I begin to walk downstairs but as I get halfway down my head grows dizzy and I collapse, falling down the stairs.  
I wake up in a hospital room to dulling fluorescent lights and brightly colored walls. I look around, used to the dulling numb that hospital rooms provide you with, but eventually you fun a way to cope. I see my mom outside my room talking to a doctor, she's trying to hide it but I know she's been crying, she seems to do that a lot these days. A nurse with a wide smile plastered across here faces enters, trying too hard to conjure up a positive attitude. she tells me they had to adjust my meds, but everything is fine now. I wish I could believe here, but they always beat around the bush with these things, and they never tell me the truth, so I know better. All the doctors are confident in front of me, but I know they have no idea how to help me, I can see it in their eyes that they can only put off my death.

***

When we get home I sit by my window just staring into space, when I hear the patter of the rain hitting my window. For a second there's hope, I run out of my room stopping only to put on my rain clothes and to grab an umbrella. I run outside just to feel the rain pounding down on me, a thousand drops a minute, and it all seems to be for me. I drop my umbrella and it seems like it falls for a thousand years, but as soon as it hits the ground I dance. I splash around in the puddles like I'm five again. And for a moment, no matter how small, I am unafraid, I don't have cancer or a dead dad, or a scared mom, or anything else, for a moment I am free. But I--more than anyone--know that all good things must come to an end, and slowly the rain comes to an end and I head inside. How could I have known that someone was watching from afar with a weapon far more dangerous than any sword?  
By the time I get to school the next day everyone has seen the video of me in the rain at least twice, and nobody has anything nice to say about it, they call out insults as I walk down the hall, making fun of me for something I can't control. Their words like voracious predators feeding off of my pain. Suddenly one of my favorite things has brought me so much sorrow, I don't want to do this anymore, I think.  
I rush out of the school's double doors which now more than ever seem like the bars to a prison cell. I run until my legs won't carry me anymore and I have to stop. I have no clue where I am but I'm too weak to move, so I find a place to sit and hide until I have more strength. I sob until there are no tears left to cry and still I continue, and nothing I could do would stop this waterfall of emotions from pouring out. Until something forces my attention.  
“Well, well, well, what do we have here? Looks like an aristocrat.” I hear a voice say with dominating power. Before I can even look up I feel a warm hand pressed against my arm, I'm trapped. I feel his hot breath in my ear,  
“What's someone like you doing in this part of town? Don't you know there are some very bad people around here? Do you need directions?” I hear him say.  
His voice holds more sarcasm and cruelty than I've ever heard before. “You should know that these streets are our territory” he growls. I try to cry out and scream, I just want free, but the more I struggle the more his grip tightens. His hand caresses my face as he reaches back behind his back and pulls out a knife like some sort of messed up magic trick. I cry out but no one can hear me.  
I feel my throat grow damp from a small cut on my neck, my attackers dump the knife and resort to hands and feet. They throw punches, their fist like iron hitting a piece of paper. I scream for help till I can no longer muster up an even a small whimper. Why will no one help? The blood stings my eyes and I can taste the salt from my sweat in my mouth. They are relentless like I am no longer human, but a punching bag, something responsible for the problems of the world. My mom says that there is a silver lining to every cloud, but I don't see how there is a silver lining to this, I don't even see the cloud, just darkness, everything is darkness. “Don't quit” I think to myself “just don't give up”, I don't want to give up, but then soon I begin to close my eyes, allow myself to let go when I hear a glorious noise. Sirens. I'm saved. My hope only grows as the sound chances my attackers off. But I can't move, so I am left with nothing to do but wait for the cops to get to me, but they never do. I sit but no one comes, I cry out with what little strength I have left, but still, no one comes. I feel myself start to fade again, but I am no longer afraid. I see my father's face, it's magnificent, he's calling out to me, “I'm coming daddy.”

***

By the time my body is found I'm long dead, I seem to float above it all, like a never-ending nightmare. I look over myself and I'm bloody, my body is bruised and broken. when I can't look anymore, I look up to see my mother sobbing. A cop walks up to her “ma'am we are going to do everything we can to make sure the people who did this are caught” he says, and then he's gone, treating my death like just another casualty of the streets, but I shouldn't just be another death. I was a child, still innocent. Everything around me just seems to legitimize the fact that the curtains of my life have shut before they properly got to open.  
I try to go to my mom, ”I'm here mom, I'm right here” I shout. But she  
She can’t hear me, no one can hear me, not anymore. I want to go home.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for the sad ending, I hope you liked it.


End file.
